


Team SCLT: Abnormal

by RaijinWolf



Category: RWBY
Genre: Action, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Feels, Asexual Character, Blood, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Dark, Depression, Dialogue Heavy, Drama, Emotional Manipulation, F/F, F/M, Gen, Injury, Manipulation, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mind Manipulation, Near Death Experiences, Not Canon Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, POV Female Character, POV Male Character, POV Multiple, POV Original Character, POV Third Person, POV Third Person Limited, Plot Twists, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Canon, Pre-Volume 1 (RWBY), Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Tags Contain Spoilers, Violence, Volume 1 (RWBY), Volume 2 (RWBY), Volume 3 (RWBY)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:29:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27626816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaijinWolf/pseuds/RaijinWolf
Summary: "Deviating from what is normal or usual, typically in a way that is undesirable or worrying." Be it physically or mentally, each member of Team SCLT was abnormal. A 'self-made' tech expert, an unstable ex-drug runner/assassin, and a set of estranged twins. As the millennia-long game of chess begins to reach a turning point, the unwitting and unpredictable pieces on the board may find themselves caught in the perfect storm.
Relationships: Jaune Arc/Pyrrha Nikos, Original RWBY Character(s)/Original RWBY Character(s)





	Team SCLT: Abnormal

** Journey To Beacon: Shani **

There’s a saying about the Kingdom of Vacuo; it’s a holiday, not a home. That’s because there was a world of difference between seeing Vacuo, and surviving Vacuo. The only Kingdom governed by its people; Vacuo was where you went if you didn’t have much luck pursuing what the locals called a ‘clean career’.

What most outsiders-looking-in didn’t understand was that despite its predominantly lawless nature, the largely unspoken ‘rules of the sand’ were enforced quite strongly. One of these rules was an agreement unanimously reached by the ruling factions: no blood on neutral grounds.

It was because of this rule that Hamza Qadir – Uncle Hamza to anyone who didn’t want to seem disrespectful, had no worries about staying in his gym late at night. He’d had at least a dozen new membership forms to file away, and the amount of hands-on coaching he provided that day prevented him from getting around to it until all the kids had left…which had only been an hour ago.

The veteran Huntsman chuckled, regardless of what their grades in school suggested, those bundles of energy could really apply themselves when they were passionate about something.

It was part of why he’d first decided to open the boxing gym decades ago. Get the kids into something fun, rewarding, but most importantly, applicable. Remnant was often an unforgiving place, and it wasn’t uncommon for someone to be born into a life of crime in the most literal sense of the phrase.

The families and factions in power agreed, donations were plentiful and mostly accepted so long as they were _just_ donations. No favours, no exclusivity. Uncle Hamza’s gym put the kids first.

The chime of the bell above the front door signalled an unexpected visitor, and so a composed, but alert Hamza left the office to see who he’d be greeting. Even late into his fifties, the veteran struck an intimidating image of a tank given flesh, only ever brought to bear against those who forgot why the sands once told tales of ‘Hamza, The Haymaker’.

He paused in the main hall once he’d noticed her in the dark. Gym gear on, duffel bag on her shoulder, and those ‘inhibitor’ gauntlets covering the lower halves of her arms.

Hamza glanced at a nearby clock on a wall. Midnight. He chided himself for being surprised; she’d been doing this randomly a few times a month for half a year now. The veteran wagered she might’ve been the most disciplined teenager he’d ever seen.

The expression etched into her pale skin, as always, told the same story. The man sighed as he ran a hand down his face, clearing his throat afterwards.

“Come on in, Shani. Ya just wanna use a bag right?” The girl in question nodded in response, and so Hamza moved to unlock the storage room.

“Thanks for always letting me do this, I mean it. I’ll be gone in an hour.” The teen spoke as she withdrew a hair tie from her pocket and began pulling her carmine curls into a ponytail. Her medium-pitched voice had a habit of betraying how stressed she felt regardless of the topic, and she had this thing about eye contact.

It certainly wasn’t shyness; the teen walked with an air of confidence that had garnered her more than a few looks on the rare occasions she showed up in the daytime. Hamza assumed it was an inherited behavioural trait from whichever Faunus species she was.

“Don’t sweat it kid, I’m not leaving for a while meself.” The veteran shrugged, and then hefted a free-standing bag along with the base that looked quite different from the ones he normally put out during the day. The outside padding was thicker and segmented every several inches, not to mention the individual pads that branched out in various target areas.

Golden eyes that shined in the darkness narrowed as they caught sight of the weight on Hamza’s shoulder. “That’s a Frost.” Shani announced in disbelief.

“Yup.” He affirmed, turning to face her as he walked back. “I figured you’d recognise it. Had one shipped out here from Atlas.”

“Did you buy that for me?” A slight look of worry formed on her features. “That’s—Why would you—How much did it cost? I’ll pay for it.”

“Not hap’nin.” He declined, setting the base down. “I forked out for this so ya don’t go bursting the regulars anymore. Shoulda invested earlier honestly, might’ve saved a few. Besides, I’ll have a damn cue of young’uns wanting to use this bad boy.” He punctuated with a slap on the bag’s surface.

“Fine.” Shani relented, dropping her duffel bag and removing her jacket. “Spot my form on callouts?”

“Sure thing. Just don’t go all blurry on me, okay kid? These eyes ain’t had to track those kinds of punches since I had hair!” Hamza chuckled heartily, then noticing that the redhead seemed put out by the request. “Jeez kid, I’m playin’ ya! Go wild, I’ll let you know if you’re off-kilter.”

Shani nodded resolutely and stepped in front of the punching bag, setting herself in a stance with her left arm lowered. After taking a few deep breaths, her body began vibrating, filling the otherwise silent room with a low hum. “Ready.”

“Jab!” Hamza shouted. With a flicker movement of her left hand, a thud sounded. “Jab, one-two, left cut!” Four strikes in succession landed without pause, the combo only taking a little over a second to complete. The veteran couldn’t help but marvel at the display. _“Damn kid is throwing blinks at what, seventeen? What are they feeding them these days?”_ He thought as he continued calling out random combinations. A minute had passed doing this before a seed of worry had planted itself in the veteran’s mind, one he decided to voice.

“How many people round these parts have seen you swing like this?” His shift in tone didn’t go unnoticed by the teen, causing her to momentarily drop her stance and stop vibrating.

“Just you.” Shani’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

“You’re a smart kid; I’m betting you know Vacuo ain’t the most hospitable to folks with powerful Semblances.”

“You’re talking abou—”

“— _Don’t_ say it aloud. Ever. Not that many rules in Vacuo, even fewer in here. That’s one of them. But yes, _them_.” Hamza couldn’t help but grit his fangs. He’d had talks with those in power time after time, but this _parasite_ that had latched onto the Kingdom wasn’t something so easily removed.

Kids just up and vanishing, and there were never any tracks to follow. The past few years could be best described as grasping at fog. He knew it was there, he could see it, but getting a hold of it was impossible. _“Improbable, not impossible. No operation this large goes on this long without something leaving a trail.”_

His train of thought was derailed when he spotted Shani’s attention on her gauntlets, face set in a slight wince as she repeatedly opened and closed her hands into fists. After Shani looked up and saw Hamza with a questioning look on his face, she bit her lip and shook her head.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine.”

“I don’t know what the exact science is, or how they work, but those can’t be good for you.”

“They’re temporary.” She replied a little too quickly. “Sometimes my Semblance acts up, and I need these to contain it. Without these on, I’d be releasing miniature shockwaves at random. It’s involuntary, part of releasing the excess that builds up over time. It’s why I come here some nights; I can’t sleep unless I exhaust most of it. The gauntlets keep the discharges at bay, even if it’s…uncomfortable every now and then.”

“Didn’t you say a while back that your mom could help?”

A flare of agitation passed over Shani’s face. “I can’t.”

“Look, I get the feeling you aren’t on peachy terms with her, but this seems serious. If she could get rid of it then—”

“—That’s how she gets you!” The redhead cut in, fists shaking at her side. “She offers you something you need—want, something you want.” She corrected herself. “All you have to do is say yes once. It only has to happen once, and she has you forever. She’s _infectious_. I can’t go to her with this. I _won’t_.”

Something in her words caused a memory of her membership form to come to the forefront of Hamza’s mind, and he rested a hand on his chin in thought. “Phoenix. Right, I thought something about that name felt familiar. Who’re you staying with now then?”

“My aunt, dad’s side.” Shani lowered her gaze to the floor, her voice quiet. “I—I couldn’t stay there anymore, I had to leave.”

“From what you’ve said about her, that sounds like a good thing. So why do you sound like you regret it so much? You got away.”

“Exactly. _I_ got away. My brother, my other half, I—I…” She trailed off; the message clearly conveyed without explicit mention. “Sorry, I have to go.” It was a hasty farewell as she gathered her things and made for the door, ignoring Hamza’s calls after her as she strode out into the chill of the night.

* * *

Hours later, Shani stood in her aunt’s bathroom, a face of contempt staring back at her in the cabinet mirror.

Her aunt – Milla, was currently away from Vacuo and wouldn’t be back for a week. In all honesty, the teenage redhead was relieved she’d have some time in the house to herself; she’d always found it easier to think through issues in her head when there wasn’t anyone intruding on the space she needed for it.

There was _a lot_ to work through.

Shani began filling the sink in front of her with water high enough that she could submerge her hands. As the sound of water escaping the faucet replaced silence, she slowly undid the straps on her gauntlets and pulled them off, discarding them on the bathroom floor with disdain as she went about flexing her numb hands.

‘Uncomfortable’ didn’t come close to describing what it felt like wearing those, but Shani had long since made a habit of downplaying _anything_ that could be seen as a weakness. There was only one person on Remnant who knew in detail what happened when she put them on, and they were bound by doctor-patient confidentiality.

That aside, she _needed_ to get her Semblance under control, Beacon was less than a month away now, and the plan was to arrive a week in advance to ensure she had everything she’d need. That left her a little under two weeks to figure out something; there were only so many times she could sneak out during the night before someone at Beacon noticed.

Several new splashes of water greeted her ears, alerting her to the sight of it spilling over the edges of the sink.

“Damn it.” She hastily cut off the flow at the source. Of course, she was too stuck in her head to notice how quickly it was reaching its limit, until it was too late. “Wouldn’t be a first now, would it?” Her tone was bitter, and she plunged her hands into the water without hesitation.

Immediately, the water began bubbling up under the force of the rumbling she was generating under its surface.

Shani knew there was no such thing as a stainless soul, everyone made mistakes. However, she wasn’t the one subjected to suffering for hers. No, she instead all but offered her twin in her place while she ran.

What angered her though, was that she couldn’t think of a single way to get to him without going back home. His scroll had either been deactivated or changed as soon as a few days after she’d fled. Shani knew it’d be impossible to get to him without getting in range of her mother, and if that happened, it was far more likely that their reunion would end with her under her mother’s control.

Every time the golden-eyed Faunus thought of her brother – about what he might’ve had to endure because of her abandonment, it made her blood boil.

A familiar scalding on her hands brought her attention back to the sink, gaze lingering on the waves of steam rising from the slightly reduced body of water. A sigh of relief left her lips as she felt her Aura drain on two accounts: Using her Semblance to boil the water, and her Aura shielding her from second-degree burns.

It still hurt, but Shani had grown to appreciate this kind of pain. Ever-present, enough to notice but not enough to make her pull away. Compared to how it felt keeping her hands in the gauntlets, the sink was a paradise.

Now with significantly less Aura, and similarly decreased levels of stress, Shani lifted her steaming hands out of the water and dried them on a nearby towel. She raised one hand to level with her eyes, carefully gauging how much of her Aura she’d expended; it was her easiest indicator of how many hours sleep would be offered to her before she was forced awake again.

**Author's Note:**

> That’s the end of the first “Journey To Beacon” prologue, introducing Shani Phoenix.
> 
> Seeing as time spent at Beacon would be a catalyst for change within the character, I felt it was important to establish what her current situation is prior to enrolment. There are two more planned, which cover another two of the characters who will become part of Team SCLT.
> 
> This'll be a character-driven story, with proactive and reactive decisions having effects on the overall plot. Speaking of plot, you can expect some familiar events even if they aren't depicted exactly as you remember them; the changes will start small, and build as the stakes do.


End file.
